


Winter Stories

by ChronicallyOwlish



Category: Andromeda (TV)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Friendship, Prompt Fill, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-14 22:50:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13017819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChronicallyOwlish/pseuds/ChronicallyOwlish
Summary: A series of ficlets exploring the crew and their relationships built around the winter prompts for Reddit's fanfiction sub. These will focus more on the Maru crew and will skew towards Harper/Trance.





	1. A Project

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day out in the snow. Set Pre-Drom.

Two cargo-pod lids and a snowy hill, flakes still falling. So easy to keep her young crew entertained. Across a field of sparkling white, dotted with scraggly evergreen trees, Harper and Trance trudged up a hill side by side, lugging their makeshift sleds behind them. Trance practically swam in Harper’s hand-me-down coat. A knitted hat, also his, slipped over her eyes and she pushed it up again. She’d not come equipped with winter clothes. She’d not come equipped with much at all, including the necessary skills to crew on the Maru, but Beka had taken her on anyway. 

Another project.

They reached the top, sat on their lids, and launched down the hill together. Powder sprayed around them, landing on their coats and hats. Joyful whoops carried across the field, and a moment later they stopped, laughter lifting into the clear blue sky.

“Okay guys, you’ve had your fun. Cargo’s on its way. Back on the ship so we can get off this icy hell planet. Rev’s waiting,” she said.

“Aw, Boss!” Harper complained.

“Come on. I will make some cider,” Trance said, grabbing his arm and dragging him away. 

Beka followed.

A project, yes, but well worth the effort.


	2. A Series of Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beka receives some mystery gifts. Set in sometime in Season 3.

The first gift is in Cargo Bay 2. It comes by courier and the summons to pick it up comes as a surprise. It’s small, flat, and wrapped in midnight purple. A perfect white bow sits on top. She hasn’t had a gift with a bow since she was a child. There's no note. The courier is already gone. 

Inside is a compact disk. Whether it is the exact same album her brother stole years ago, she can’t tell, but it’s at least a copy. She has no idea who sent it, but she puts it out of her mind with a smile and a shake of her head. There is work to do and no time for mysteries. She’ll figure it out tomorrow.

She almost sits on the next in her eagerness to rest at the end of her shift, but a flash of glossy red in the corner of her eye stops her. It sits on her pilot’s chair with a shimmering silver ribbon looped around it. From the ribbon dangles a tag.

_ Meet Me on Obs Deck - 1800 _

Short and sweet. She can ignore it and rest the way she’s planned. Tired doesn’t begin to describe the heaviness in her limbs after hours of training new recruits. But curiosity, that temptress, has her in her grip now.

She undoes the wrapping paper carefully, pulling one side open, then the other, unfolding it slowly in anticipation. It reveals a black velvet box. She considers it, wonders if she should open it. The kinds of things that come in velvet boxes always come with strings, and she has never liked strings. Feelings, not logic, are what compel her in the end, her heart racing, though she can’t explain why.

It’s a simple silver cuff, and when she picks it up she can tell it is real silver, and old. An heirloom.

She showers, changes, and does her hair up in a braid, though it shouldn’t matter. Before she leaves, she clasps the cuff on her wrist and tries not to think about why it was given.

Obs is dark and silent when she enters save for the metallic whisper of knives on a cutting board. It smells of meat, vegetables, and a peppery sauce that makes her mouth water. She slips past the foliage, knowing what she will find beyond. A table for two, candles, and Tyr Anasazi, all muscles and good looks, bent over a portable hot table.

“What’s all this about?” she asks, stepping into view. He looks up, studying her, as he always does. His eyes linger on her wrist.

“Well, it is your birthday, yes? This is a celebration.”

She moves closer. Another package sits on the table, larger than the other two.

“I don’t have birthdays anymore.”

He ignores her. “Open it.”

Tyr has gone through a lot of work for this. She senses his gaze, always so intense, on her back as she pulls the paper off and opens the finely carved wooden box under it. Inside, rows of disks. Her disks. She doesn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or fear for her brother’s life, because how else does an assassin get back stolen material?

“You didn’t kill him did you?” she asks. His laugh is an explosion that fills the entire room and swells her heart. She laughs too.

“No, your brother is alive if not a bit scared.”

“Good, then I can enjoy dinner.” She pauses, considers what all this means, and why she keeps allowing herself to be swept away in his current, then simply says, “Thank you.”


	3. Dreams of Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after series end and in the universe of Welcome the Dawn (but you don't have to read it to get it).

He’d dreamed of summer again.

On Earth, it was the first day of winter. Boston would’ve been covered in snow, thick piles, like fluffy white comforters. The only soft thing in such a hard world. He didn’t want to think of winter, or of snow, and especially not of Boston because it reminded him that Earth was gone. Snow would never fall on his hometown again.

He focused his thoughts on the warm body beside him, breathed in the essence of flowers and earth that clung to her, and pulled her closer. He dreamed of summer when she was near.


	4. The Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set post series and in the same universe as Welcome the Dawn.

It is cold outside, and the breeze makes it colder. She is dressed for the weather, Harper’s told her that much, at least. The air is crisp, it bites at her cheeks and nose and she can taste a hint of salt when she opens her mouth.There are waves in the distance. As she steps down out of the landing pod, one of Harper’s hands clasps one of hers awkwardly through both their thick gloves while the other presses into her back, providing both support and guidance. Soil and gravel crunch beneath her boots.

“It’s a bit of a walk. You trust me?” he asks.

“You know I do.”

“You probably shouldn’t, but I’ll take it. Right this way, darlin’.” As if she has any choice, blindfolded as she is.

The ground is uneven, their path uphill, and the underbrush snags at her clothing. Something is changing in the air. A different sort of energy, a waking energy, is replacing the sleepy energy they’d stepped out into. Leaves rustle. Birds twitter. Small animals dash away with skittering paws. All the while Harper’s breaths and footsteps are steady beside her, as steady as his hand on her back.

“We should be right on time. You’re going to love it.”

On time for what?

The ground levels out and they stop. The waves are louder now and she feels the wind rising up from the ocean, and is hit with vertigo when she realizes they are on the edge of a cliff. He wraps his arm around her waist.

“Ready?”

He takes off the blindfold and she blinks. Before her, the sun rises over a shimmering ocean, a glorious ball of fire that transforms the water into gold. This morning, he has given her the sunrise, and it is beautiful.


End file.
